


You Won't, But You Might

by glitchkillgasm



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Drabbles, M/M, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 03:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7026505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitchkillgasm/pseuds/glitchkillgasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles AHOY</p><p>This is mainly just going to be things that I don't want to post on my roleplaying profile -- I write as Jerome so these will be likely geared towards his point of view as it's what I'm most familiar with... Smut, child abuse references, sadness might ensue, it's sort of a free-for-all. It's going to be a chaptered fic that will deal with my headcanons of Jerome's upbringing, how he came to be and what makes him tick, his thoughts and feelings in his relationship with Jim that will spiral out of control in a canon-divergent sense. A lot of these are based off of my own opinions and beliefs on where Jerome comes from, you're entitled to your own opinion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Won't, But You Might

Miniature versions of teeth lose their bindings in roots; it goes unnoticed, young bodies heal over fresh with uneven beginning signs of skin, turbulent as it expands and closes over the wounds that are capable of truly healing, purple etchings hand-picked like tulips over cheekbones. This man buries secrets in his skin, with each meeting of his lips to his flesh at the nape of his neck, when he hits him -- just like his mother, tight and straight to the point, how he almost feels guilty at how he shakes the dull aching out of his knuckles when they knock against his jaw, his own still clenched out of blind fury. That monster never beds back down until fingers close around his throat like a vice and the world goes monochrome and muted, rust-colored lashes flit as he balances on the brink of consciousness, pupils wide to trap in light. 


End file.
